I dropped my eyesand stared at his hands.Tattooed knuckles bedecked in heavy silver rings gripped a steaming mug. I couldn’t look directly at him. I already felt the wobbles of turning into once-human goo deep in my gut. I followed his hand to a wrist wrapped in leather and chain bracelets and a few dripping scarves.

“Coffee?” I managed to say.

“Yeah.” He held the mug up in salute before taking a sip. That ‘yeah’ was really quite a sexy sound.

“You’re picking on me for drinking a Roy Rogers, and you’re drinking coffee? Trying to get sober?” I’m not sure how I was able to form words. My throat was dry, and my tongue felt swollen. I always lost the ability to speak coherently around good looking men.It was a good thing I was sitting down, because I know my knees hadforgotten how to work.

Tyler stalked thru every last tent, and he literally crawled between them as well. Still no bird. And no one had seen any more roosters running around.

He checked out the main entrance and wished he hadn’t left his jacket in the pickup. A fine drizzle and diminishing light were going to make the next half of his search miserable. For Kolby, he would do this in his bare feet in the snow. She had kissed his face, and her lips had felt like clouds. He stepped out into the weather.

After a fruitless search that took longer than he wanted, and probably not half the time that was needed, Tyler returned empty-handed to the rooster tent.

Kolby sat on the table. Her torso and arms draped over the crate holding the smaller of the two roosters. Her dark hair, in a thick braid, hung limply over her shoulder. She wiped at her nose, still sniffling.

His heart broke to see her so sad. He had watched, from too far away, as she established herself as a Marans breeder. Her birds consistently produced the desired dark brown eggs. Her hens were full and fluffy with dark feathers, and the roosters were picture-book quality. To lose her spokesmodel and top show bird had to feel like a kick in the teeth.

And here he was again, watching her from too far away.

He would give anything to be her hero but he’d failed miserably.

“Kolby?” He didn’t want to startle her, didn’t want to cause her any more grief.

Her puffy red eyes lifted to meet his steady gaze. When she saw he had no bird in his arms, she didn’t smile the way she usually did when she saw him.

He shook his head and opened his empty arms. He was so sorry, so unbelievable sorry. He would give anything to see her smile again, but he was only able to deliver bad news.

Kolby rushed into his arms, holding onto him as fiercely as if he was the only person who could save her.

“How’re you doing?” The man she’d inadvertently ogled had a square jaw lined with a thin beard, nice lips, and a voice like liquid chocolate. He gave Alexa a little upward nod of his head. It was a shapely head with close-cropped, tightly curled hair. He had everything nice, and that was why Alexa figured he had mesmerized her as he carried cases of beer and water from a delivery pallet on the sidewalk into a building.

Red stocking cap with white pom-pom, tight jeans, and a T-shirt with the long sleeves pushed up. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold. Alexa sighed as she watched him pick up another box and disappear into the dark of the building. His jeans displayed his ass to perfection. He even whistled. Could he be any cuter?

“You sure you don’t need anything?” he asked again. This time she registered hints of a British accent.

“Just enjoying the show,” Alexa gushed.

“By all means, enjoy away.” He rolled his shoulders, did an extra flex of bicep, and carried another box into the building.

Alexa’s brain, not firing on all cylinders, took a moment to realize that she had just come across as the vilest, most sexist pig ever. Had she been a man doing that to a woman, she should have been slapped. Instead, he flexed for her.

“I just objectified you in a very demeaning manner, and you don’t mind?” she asked him after he jogged down the few steps to the sidewalk.

The man paused. Damn, he was tall. Then he shrugged. “It’s all part of the job. Look, if you want to objectify me without guilt and enjoy a real show, come by tonight. Doors open at eight.” He pointed to the marquee on the building behind him. Manfred’s Manly Male Review.

“Oh. Right.” Alexa felt a little awkward, but she smiled. Alliteration always made her happy. Manfred should have used manifestation instead of review…more Ms that way. She had been ogling a stripper in his day wear, and he had just invited her to ogle him some more. “I think I just will.”

Bethy stared mournfully at the remnants of Christmas tree selections. The live trees were all dead and brown, and of the pre-lit trees, the only choices were too big and expensive or unnatural colors. She was not convinced this was going to be a good idea.

Seth tossed another box of frozen appetizer snacks in the cart. “I don’t know about you, but on Thursday I think snacks and movies all day sounds perfect.” His smile faded when he looked at her.

“Whats wrong, Bethy girl?”

Bethy sighed, the sweet and the bitter all mixed up into one. Seth already had a nickname for her, that made her heart soar. But the lack of tree options felt like a holiday kick in the backside. “No trees.”

“What do you mean no trees? There’s this one over here.” He gestured broadly at the huge example.

“Too big.”

“Okay, then we go avant-garde and get the white one and do all black and silver ornaments.”

Bethy giggled. “That sounds too chic for me.”

“Then we do white with candy colored ornaments. It will be festive.”

“A white tree? Will it work? Maybe no tree is best.” She shook her head skeptically.

“Of course it will work. It will be Whoville meets Willy Wonka. Ridiculous and sweet. C’mon.” Seth spun a pirouette in front of the tree then slid across the floor on his knees to be right in front of Bethy. “I’m begging, can we can we can we? Huh?”

Bethy’s face felt like it was going to crack in half with her smile. An older lady paused and said, “When a boy that good looking is on his knees in front of you, you had better say yes.”